


Sugarcane

by Nualie



Category: Pandora Hearts
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Gen, Leo and Elliot get a cameo, Nonbinary Character, Smoking, a moment of silence for gilbert tho, and a bad case of sad backstory, because i.... can, is this romantic? is this platonic? who knows not me, may contain fourth wall breaking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-14
Updated: 2018-09-14
Packaged: 2019-07-12 05:38:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15988769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nualie/pseuds/Nualie
Summary: On Reim's first day of college, he meets his new roommate. He had mistakenly thought he could escape the insanity, but his new roommate is worse than his last weirdo.





	Sugarcane

**Author's Note:**

  * For [i_write_hurt_not_comfort](https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_write_hurt_not_comfort/gifts).



> here's my side of the fic swap :D
> 
> hAHAHAHA this took way, way longer than I expected
> 
> it also got way longer 
> 
> sorry for the delay, enjoy!!

Reim intended to spend a studious year in Pandora Academy. He'd worked all his years to merit his place in the prestigious school. He was going to make it count.

 

He had taken a small apartment, a few minutes away from the famous Academy, and he happened to have a roommate he hadn't gotten to meet yet, even though he was coming "home" after his first day. He hoped they hadn't just bailed on him, he couldn't exactly afford the flat on his own. At least the landlord had assured him everything was fine that morning; said roommate was supposed to move in sometime this day. Hopefully.

 

Reim had also thought of rooming with his childhood friend, Rufus, but...

 

The time of an elevator ride, Rufus' entire personality passed through Reim's mind eye and he started sweating. He would not survive five years rooming with him, maybe not even one month.

 

Reim's keys clicked together when he tried to unlock the door, but they refused to budge— he found the door unlocked already. His first thought was "thief", but then, he remembered he was waiting on a roommate. Must be them. He sighed in relief and opened the door wide.

 

The burglar hypothesis immediately burst back into his mind. The room looked like it had been through a hurricane.

 

Then, from behind the angle of the wall, the second most bizarre creature Reim had ever seen laid his glasses on leaned towards him.

 

"Hello there," a high, sing-song voice said. It came from a thin person with white hair, a single startling red eye poking from behind thick bangs. "I just got here, so it's a bit of a mess~"

 

Reim closed the door very slowly. He took a deep breath. He wiped his glasses. Then, he reopened the door.

 

The only thing that had changed was that the bleached scarecrow was hanging upside down from the ceiling. Reim was not impressed. In fact, Reim sighed for five whole seconds, and walked into their apartment.

 

“Are you my roommate?” he asked, pushing his glasses back on his nose.

 

Pouting, the other being nodded. “Unfortunately. You’re no fun. You didn’t even scream.”

 

He suppressed another sigh. It wouldn’t do to overwhelm the story with the word “sighing”, although the spirit of the thing was still present.

 

Reim held out his hand. “Reim Lunettes,” he said, hoping that this unusual start wouldn't be a conflictual one.

 

“Xerxes Break,” the other answered, climbing down from the ceiling, “Just Break is fine. You’re also a first year of Pandora Academy, correct?”

 

Dubitative, Reim nodded. “Literature major,” he said, and Break shook his hand with a sly grin.

 

“Ah, the same as mine! Perfect.”

 

Reim felt something small and hard being pressed into his palm. Their hands parted, revealing a piece of candy. A lemon head, if Reim wasn’t wrong.

 

Break was suddenly way too close to Reim’s face.

 

“This is your payment,” the mad creature said very seriously. “Here’s the deal, do my homework for me.”

 

Reim spluttered. “As if, what would I even get out of it?!”

 

Break stared into his eyes, and Reim felt cold sweat roll down his back from the intensity of this crimson eye. He refused to let himself shudder.

 

“Your payment,” Break replied, “is a lemon head.”

 

Reim grit his teeth, refusing to let this unhinged person unsettle him. He’d survived eighteen years of Rufus Barma’s obsession with their neighbor Sheryl. He could survive this person(?).

 

Instead of answering, Reim mechanically pocketed the candy, set his bag down and picked up a discarded beige coat. Then, he put it on the coat hanger. A glance towards the living room told him half a dozen cardboard boxes had been piled up haphazardly, some of them still closed. Piles of unidentified objects were strewn about the room— on the floor, on the sofa… A cairn of candy, cane and candle obstructed the corridor…

 

Break merely observed as the aggravated man picked up the miscellaneous objects that had already made it out of the boxes, and set them into cupboards, or onto shelves and desks.

 

When Reim was done cleaning up what had been taken out, he turned to Break, who seemed a little taken aback. “Well?”

 

“Very,” Break answered smoothly. Reim let a groan escape.

 

“Hurry up and get here,” Reim growled. “I’ll help with this. The faster we clean up your things, the faster this looks like a home again.”

 

Break tilted a curious head. Reim's roommate suddenly seemed… calculating, or at least interrogative. Still, the biggest oddity in the room complied silently. They both took out items from the boxes, which were mostly clothes, a few toiletries, odd trinkets, all mixed in with candy. Intending to respect privacy while remaining efficient, Reim took the appropriate items to the common bathroom, and the other those that went to Break’s bedroom. It had been made very clear that Break was not to step into Reim's small bedroom, and vice versa, or so he thought.

 

The most normal thing among Break's possessions was a photo album, which was snatched out of his hands as soon as Reim lifted it out of a box. Break felt the leather cover for a moment, sighed, and took it away.

 

It seemed the cardboard had been filled without rhyme or reason, as if their owner had simply thrown in the items randomly. Thus, despite the number of them, Break didn’t seem to own a lot of things at all, which meant they were done emptying the boxes and cleaning up within the hour.

 

A thought suddenly occurred to Reim. “If you’re also a first year, you skipped orientation entirely, didn’t you?”

 

“I already had it yesterday,” Break shrugged.

 

Nothing else was said, so Reim spoke again. “Did you get all the fliers?”

 

“Don’t need them.”

 

Silence settled down again. Reim collected the empty cardboard boxes and folded them. “They aren’t damaged or labeled, so we could reuse them,” he noted. His roommate did not offer any input. Reim turned around; Break was in fact gone entirely.

 

Of course.

 

Reim couldn’t decide if his enigmatic roommate was a specter or some kind of alien. Was there any notice that this place was haunted, or the site of paranormal activities? He didn’t think so. The place would’ve been cheaper…

 

They had been surprisingly efficient as a team, though Break seemed to have an awful independent streak. Kept snatching things out of Reim’s hands instead of asking for them. Still, maybe it wouldn't be so awful. Maybe Reim would keep his sanity intact, he thought as he walked back to his room.

 

On the way, he noticed the lamp overhead was off balance, tilted slightly. He narrowed his eyes behind his glasses. He was too short to reach without a stool... He retreated back to the kitchen for a chair, but when he came back, the lamp had been straightened.

 

What. Did Break fix it? Uh.

 

Reim already had dinner, so he just went to say goodnight after that. Break didn’t even notice him, as the odd being seemed to daydream with earplugs (and likely, music) on. So deep in thoughts, even though Reim walked by the open door, it was like he wasn’t even seen.

 

After that, Reim didn’t see his new roommate until the morning.

 

The next day, Reim opened his eyes, bothered by a strange smell, but saw very little. That was because of his eyesight, of course. He reached out for his pair of glasses, and as soon as it was on his nose, the world settled from a fuzzy white blob to Break’s face, five centimeters from Reim’s.

 

Used to Rufus sneaking into his room to rant about Sheryl, Reim didn’t flinch. He had woken up to weirder! Instead, he headbutted his rude roommate in the nose.

 

“Please tell me you have a good reason to be here,” Reim growled.

 

Break rubbed a tortured nose, pouting— and crawling on Reim’s bed, on all four. In pajamas. Reim’s heart skipped a beat.

 

“Rude. Maybe I wanted to have breakfast with you.”

 

Reim crossed his arms, and checked the clock. “It’s five am. I shouldn’t be awake for another half hour.”

 

Break’s visible eye widened. “You set your alarm at five thirty? What a ridiculous time to wake up.”

 

Reim stared.

 

“So, breakfast? I’m very fast.”

 

Reim pinched his nose. “Let me get dressed. Besides, the fast of breakfast refers to fasting, not speed.”

 

He shoved Break off the bed, who semi-obediently left the room to let Reim get dressed. His forehead hurt from hitting Break. What a weird morning. At least he’d have plenty of time to prepare before school?

 

He looked for Break in the kitchen, but it was empty. Frowning, Reim checked his surroundings—

 

He found who he was looking for at the window of the living room, smoking. His frown deepened. Right. The smell of smoke was what woke him up.

 

“Don’t smoke inside,” he said, though he would rather say ‘don’t smoke at all, you moron’.  Break shrugged and leaned outside, blowing a small cloud into the atmosphere. Reim had a mourning thought for the arctic bears, but the wisps of smoke were strangely mesmerizing to Reim’s five am brain.

 

Break crushed the cigarette into a small ashtray that had been set on the windowsill, and turned to him, eyebrow raised.

 

Reim startled out of his fascination. “Weren’t you hungry?” Reim asked, flustered. “You woke me up for this.”

 

“Right.” Break valsed into the kitchen. “Oh and. I don’t know how to use the microwave.”

 

Reim rolled his eyes, following after his roommate. “Is this why you needed me? I’ll show you. Why are you awake so early anyway?”

 

Break giggled. “Said the one who intended to wake up at five thirty, when we have classes at ten.”

 

“Dear pot,” Reim ironized, “this is kettle. Watch carefully,” he added more seriously, “I’m not going to make you toast every morning.”

 

Break hummed absentmindedly in response. To be fair to his roommate, Reim had to admit the microwave possessed an annoying, not to mention entirely unnecessary digital dial, as well as a number of manual and automatic programs. Anyone using it the first time would be a little lost, but the landlord told him he could simply use the first setting and put food back in when necessary. It’d heat up the food anyway, fancy program or not.

 

“You use this button first,” Reim pointed at the ‘P’ on the dial, “then you click on start under it. There are more options, but if you are confused it should be enough.”

 

Break frowned, and reached out. Their fingers brushed.

 

Reim took back his hand, but before he could protest about this lack of decorum, Break said something weird.

 

“These... ‘buttons’, here?”

 

“Yes..?” Could this fellow literature student not read?!

 

“It’s smooth,” Break groaned. “How stupid.”

 

Reim nodded. “And it’s certainly overly complicated for a microwave, yes.”

 

Break ended up eating candy and a microwaved banana with honey for breakfast. Reim wasn’t sure if he still had faith in humanity.

 

At least, diabetes would probably kill Break before the smoking did…

 

The pajamas didn’t cover as much as the weirdo’s usual dressing style did. Reim was surprised to glimpse that under bulky sweaters, Break was surprisingly thin. That was weird. Shouldn’t anyone put on _some_ weight from a diet of candy and other sugary products?   

 

After breakfast, they had about four hours to kill before they were required to head out. Reim considered getting to know his roommate better, but that person clearly had other plans, that is, heading out for mysterious purposes with a wink and flourish.

 

Reim decided to go for his computer instead. Maybe he could get some more reading done ahead of time. Or perhaps he should clean up a bit?

 

He passed under the same lamp as the day before, and he noticed it was crooked again. Ah. Maybe this would be a chronic issue. Still, the slightly maniacal side of his brain demanded that he right it.

 

He retrieved the stool, climbed on it. From higher up, he noticed a small plastic bag that was the source of the imbalance. Go figure, how did it get there? He lifted himself to his toes and snatched it. The lamp sagely wobbled back to its original position.

 

Reim examined the bag, curious. It seemed to be full of some kind of… mashed plant…

 

Reim’s blood froze. No. No such thing would be tolerated in this most respectable of flats. He could accept smoking, because at least it was legal, but marijuana was not going to make the cut.

 

(He really needed Break’s contribution to the rent, dammit. He told himself that was why he started searching for more eventual bags of the damned thing, and not growing concern for that disaster of a human being.)

 

He found five by eight o’clock, all hidden in improbable places.

 

(Improbable places Reim had still thought to look in.)

 

No, seriously, when did Break have the time to sneak a plastic bag full of weed in the vents?

 

Reim was fully bent on confronting his roommate about this. He could bear with smoking. He could bear with being woken up before his alarm. He could bear with cryptids leaning over him while he was in his bed. He could even tolerate Break’s frequent shattering of all known laws of physics!

 

But this might get both of them kicked out, so it could not be acceptable.

 

He disposed of the evidence and waited for his roommate to come home. Surely Break would need to get some things before school— no books had been taken out on the errand.

 

The clock ticked. Reim waited. He had to leave at nine thirty, and by nine, Break still wasn’t home. Maybe he’d have to wait until the evening… Morosely, Reim fixed up his bag, sighed, and dropped on his bed to wait. In the end he’d gotten very little done. Urgh.

 

Of course, just when he was leaving for his second day, the door clicked, letting a bleached creature slink to an eye-searing candy cane patterned shoulder bag.  
  
“Break, we need to talk.”

 

“Ah, but, I’m going to be late to school, wouldn’t that be a shame~? I need to leave now.”

 

Reim sighed. “Please. We’re going to the same place. Let’s talk on the way.”

 

The cheerfulness failed a fraction of a second, before it doubled in strength, and Break grinned largely.

 

Slinging his own bag on, Reim crossed the threshold. Break had waited for him, at least.

 

“Isn’t my bag very cute~? My little sister picked it out."

 

Cute? …..it was one way to put it. Reim purposefully didn’t wipe his glasses, content to have the sight slightly smeared for once.

 

“Oh, you have a sister?” Reim asked, surprised, as he locked the door behind them. He’d sort of assumed Break had spawned from the dark corners of a disaffected candy store.

 

Break’s face briefly darkened.

 

“I guess shouldn’t call Sharon that. We aren’t blood related. She was the blood daughter, in the foster family I ended up staying with.” Break made a ridiculous face. “It’s just simpler to say sister. Same difference, right?”

 

Reim shrugged, refusing to be put off by the stupid faces. Instead he chose to see learning more about his roommate as a good thing. A foster family… so Break hadn’t grown up with biological parents? Did they die? That was quite the intimate reveal, though it was casually said.

 

Perhaps this was a figurative olive branch.

 

“Maybe. I wouldn’t know…” He’d die before calling Rufus his brother, for sure. “Wait, you’re distracting me on purpose, aren’t you.”

 

Break pouted and rolled the sole red eye that was visible behind the white bangs. “Guilty as charged. What _did_ you want?”

 

Reim glanced left and right. The street was empty; no one was in earshot. Better get this over with. “Listen. I…” Urgh. “I threw away your drugs. You can’t do that here. I don’t know if you have more, but I found five bags of marijuana, and they’re gone now.”

 

Break’s expression morphed to a surprised one, and in the next second it was angry. Before his roommate could protest, Reim raised his hand. “Don’t even try. It’s illegal. I won’t report you, but you have to stop, so don’t buy more. If the landlord found out you’d be kicked into the street.”

 

Break pinched chapped lips and looked away. “Whatever,” Reim heard, and that sounded like the most sincere he’d seen Break yet.

 

Of course, it turned out they had class together. Of _course_.

 

Even with Break in a bad mood, the cheerful mask slipped back on, and there remained a bounce in every step that was taken. Curiously, although Reim expected Break to disappear as soon as they reached school grounds, it didn’t happen. The sweater-clad faery remained within his eyesight, strolling casually, saying nothing of substance.

 

Reim didn’t know what that meant. Was Break _shy_?

 

They sat next to each other, and Reim took out his notebook and pens. He was only barely tempted to make conversation with the other students— he didn’t really know anyone yet. He saluted Gilbert, whom he’d bumped into the previous day, and who sat on his other side. His younger brother, Vincent, whom Reim hadn’t exchanged more than two sentences with, followed close.

 

“Good morning,” he said, smiling directly at Reim. The blond boy gave a brief glance to Break’s hunched over figure. “And who is that? I don’t think I have had the pleasure to meet this man before.”

 

Break shifted next to Reim, leaning forward more than a human being reasonably should.

 

“The name is Xerxes Break,” was said pleasantly, but inexplicably, chills ran down Reim’s spine. “Just Break is fine. Oh, and this is my little sister, Emily.”

 

Only then did Reim notice a blue stuffed doll that Break had casually taken out of his bag.

 

Alright, so, that was a different name from before, thus Reim could conclude the doll hadn’t picked the bag, at least.

 

“Say hello, Emily.”

 

Emily said hello. Reim wondered if he could still pretend he didn’t know this person.

 

“Also, this idiot here,” the doll rattled on, Break had to be a ventriloquist, or maybe Reim’s roommate was just that beyond the boundaries of reality, “isn’t a boy.”

 

Reim’s eyebrows shot up.

 

“Please stay gender neutral,” Break smiled. They’d used their normal voice this time, rather than the doll.

 

He was a little annoyed that Break hadn’t told him earlier, but he should’ve known better than to expect this creature to cater to something as absurd as the gender binary.

 

Vincent looked about to say something, but Gilbert elbowed him. “Um. Nice to meet you, Break. The lecture is starting.”

 

The four students wobbled back to silence as the class’ clamor calmed down. Reim noticed Break wasn’t taking out pens, though they had paper. They were playing with a… a sewing needle, instead, fiddling with it absentmindedly. What?

 

“Break. What are you doing.”

 

He didn’t say _again_ , but he thought it.

 

“Thinking,” Break monotoned. Were they in a bad mood? They were pleasantly chatting a minute ago! What a disconcerting person. Reim was quite used to it, though.

 

“About?” Were they mad at him?

 

“That I can’t sew.”

 

Reim’s brows furrowed. “So what?”

 

The teacher was talking, but the amphitheater was still full of lowkey chatting, so he figured he was safe.

 

“That rat over there ripped Emily. That’s why I was gone this morning, I had to find someone to help her.”

 

‘That rat’ seemed to designate Vincent, going by the disgusted look Break threw at him. Reim didn’t know what to say to that.

 

The creepy puppet stared at Reim, as if daring him to protest Vincent’s guilt. “Why did you bring your doll to class, if it’s fragile?”

 

Break grinned. “Please. Emily wouldn’t want to miss out on college.” They propped Emily against Reim’s pencil case, so that she could sit straight, as if watching the board. “She’s way more studious than I am, such a sharp mind.”

 

Reim gave up.

 

He gave up the faint hope that Break was sane, and embraced fully the absurdity that his life was becoming.

 

“I can sew alright. Ask me if it happens again.” He leaned back into his chair. “Now let me listen to the teacher.”

 

Break shot him an odd look, but didn’t comment. Instead, they mechanically started to punch holes into their paper.

 

Reim had already given up, so he didn’t question it.

 

“...Reim?” Break asked a little later. “Emily can’t see the board properly, she’s too short. Would you mind reading it when the teacher marks something down?”

 

Reim took a deep breath, groaned, and promised he would.

 

By lunchtime, he was very tired, but Break did turn out to be relatively quiet and undisturbing during class. _Relatively_. They were tolerable, and understood the material quickly, despite not picking up a pencil even once.

 

It seemed that they were in a pretty bad mood, though.

 

“I need a cigarette,” Break whined, having barely touched their food.

 

Reim adjusted his glasses. “This is a no smoking area. Wait.”

 

They were seated in the campus’ canteen, together with Gilbert, who, like some lost chick, appeared to have imprinted on them from lack of other reassuring(?) figures. So far Reim had learned that Vincent liked scissors, had skipped a grade, which was why he ended up in the same year as his older brother, and that Gilbert had a phobia of cats.

 

Gilbert glanced at Break. “Um, do you know where we’re allowed to smoke on campus? It seems quite restricted…”

 

...but before Break could formulate any kind of answer, Vincent appeared out of nowhere and glomped his older brother. Gilbert almost fell off his chair. “Never fear, Gil~ I’ve gone and found all the smoking areas of the campus for you! And I chased all the cats, so don’t be afraid to go alone… but of course I’ll always go with you if you want me to!”

 

Gilbert’s eyes said _help me_ , but his mouth said “Thanks, Vince.”

 

Break ostensibly scooted their chair away from the brothers.

 

“Wait, Vincent,” Reim asked, suddenly alarmed, “Cats? What did you do with the cats?”

 

Break grumbled they didn’t like cats either. Emily claimed that cats should quiver before her.

 

Vincent shrugged. “There was a _certain someone_ who was very glad to take them off my hands.”

 

Somewhere else, a young man was gleefully burrowed in cats. His best friend, who also happened to be named after a type of big cat, rolled his eyes and idly flipped another page.

 

As soon as they finished their lunch, that is, as soon as they had pushed the food around enough to pretend they had eaten some of it, Break stood up. Reim yanked them back down.

 

Break’s eyes widened. They almost spluttered…  almost.

 

“Break,” Reim commanded, “eat.”

 

Break shrugged and looked away, so Reim decided it was time for desperate measures. He snatched Emily off the untouched apple next to Break’s plate, careful not to damage the soft puppet.

 

His roommate immediately lunged for it, but Reim dodged, narrowed his eyes, and adjusted his glasses with his empty hand.

 

From the intensity of the glare, Break reluctantly settled down.

 

“Emily would be very disappointed in you if you didn’t eat anything at lunch,” Reim said, looking at Break squarely in the eyes.

 

This was the method Reim used to keep his sanity around Rufus for about eighteen years. “Sheryl would be disappointed in you”, or “Sheryl would want you to be responsible”, was his greatest asset. Seeing Break’s strange attachment to the doll, it made sense to use her instead, though he expected Break to play along for the sake of their ongoing eldritch amusement, rather than genuine concern.

 

He definitely didn’t expect Break to flinch ever so slightly.

 

“Fine,” they said immediately, and they stabbed their pasta with a revenge.

 

Vincent whistled, and Reim remembered they weren’t alone. Vincent was still curled around his brother, chin propped among his seaweed hair, looking thoroughly entertained. The brothers had followed the exchange as if it was a very fast tennis match, and while Gilbert had the decency to look embarrassed, Vincent did not.

 

Lunch was a little awkward after that, as Break refused to say anything at all. Did Reim upset them for real?

 

Their mood didn’t get much better even after a smoking break;  Reim spotted Rufus pushing Sheryl’s wheelchair at some point, but he was immediately swallowed by the crowd, leaving Reim with mixed feelings.

 

The afternoon classes passed by in a flash.

 

Reim and Break walked home alone together, and Reim’s new friend had still barely spoken.

 

“Are you upset?” Reim finally asked.

 

“No,” Break lied curtly. They adjusted the doll on their shoulder.

 

“Is it because I touched Emily without permission?” Reim tried.

 

Break shook their head. Reim noticed they were clutching the strap of their flamboyant bag, occasionally fiddling with it with their thumb.

 

“Um…” Reim wracked his brain. “You only became this gloomy at lunch, so it’s not because your eyesight bothered you in class…”

 

Reim’s companion almost tripped and fell. Thankfully, Emily didn’t drop onto the pavement, landing on Break’s arm instead. Reim’s was outstretched to help, but unneeded, so it hung in the air before settling back to Reim’s side.

  
“When,” Break growled.

 

Reim adjusted his glasses. “Please. You were writing your notes in _braille._ That was a dead giveaway.”

 

Break didn’t have anything to say to that. They sighed, clearly exasperated. “Before you ask, I’m _legally_ blind, not completely. I can’t read, but I can see three-dimensional shapes… sort of.”

 

“...you didn’t take your cane,” Reim remembered. “I saw it when you moved in.”

 

Break shrugged. “The hospital more or less shoved it onto me. I don’t need it.”

 

Break clearly hated the idea, so Reim made a mental note to make sure a cane wouldn’t be needed. It wasn’t like Break and him weren’t tight like gum on a shoe by now.

 

They resumed walking. “I assumed glasses wouldn’t help?” Reim, being Reim Lunettes, had to ask. Break shook their head again. “Were you born with…”

 

Break met Reim’s eyes and smiled. “My biological mother chucked bleach on me.”

 

…oh.

 

Break _had_ mentioned a foster family, but… damn. Parents didn’t need to die for their children to leave…  Break had probably been taken away by social services.

 

“I’m sure you’re dying to know our story,” Break added cheerfully, patting Emily’s blue doll head.

 

“Y… You don’t have to…” It was Reim’s turn to stumble on the uneven pavement, just as his words did.

 

“I want to tell you,” Break stated, and Reim’s heart missed a beat.

 

“If my theatrics don’t put you off, I’m not going to be able to get rid of you, aren’t I? I might as well save myself the trouble of you scuttering through my past for fifty more pages. Someone would lose too much sleep over it.”

 

Reim… couldn’t really argue against that.

 

“So. Where to start. ” Break took a deep breath.

 

“My genitors weren’t rich, but we weren’t poor, at first. It was the three of us for many years, my mother, my father and I, and we did… fine. My father had a job in… I don’t remember, it’s not important. It was a really good job, it was more than enough to provide for us.”

 

“They had me very early in their life, especially my mother. She had to quit her studies because of me. She never got her degree, so she focused on raising me, and she took on small jobs like cleaning other people’s houses when I got old enough, for extra cash. I think she didn’t like my father being the only one to earn money, because back then we didn’t really need it. Then, when I was around twelve, my little sister was born.”

 

“Her name was Emily,” Break noted, and dread whispered a warning in Reim’s ear.

 

“I was very happy, and my parents were, at first, too. Then… my father got sick. I don’t remember what it was exactly, but he couldn’t get out of bed for months. He couldn’t work anymore, so he lost his job entirely, and suddenly it became a lot harder to make ends meet.”

 

“Didn’t you have any… insurance, or something? Healthcare? Wouldn’t he at least get sick leave?”

 

“We had _life_ insurance for sure. As for healthcare, I suppose it was enough to pay for medication, but it couldn’t compensate the loss of a job. I don’t know about sick leave. His issue probably lasted too long for that to cover it.”

 

Break shrugged. “It wasn’t like we starved from one day to the next or anything. My parents had some money on the side, but… every time I came back from school, my mother looked more and more exhausted. She would yell at Emily and I every time we made noise, although she was a toddler.” Break’s fist twitched. “Then, when she calmed down, she’d apologize to us. She’d say she was very stressed. She’d say she didn’t intend to get mad. I chose to believe it was okay, she didn’t really mean it. I forgave her for losing her temper.”

 

“My father didn’t get better, though. I think he needed to be operated, but since he lost his job and it was a very expensive operation, we couldn’t afford it. He was dying, and my mother got desperate.”

 

Break took a deep breath.

 

“Emily fell terribly ill as well. I wanted to take her to the hospital, but my mother said we couldn’t afford it, so I… didn’t. She had her stay in her bed, with her plush toys. Emily looked like she was in a lot of pain, she was vomiting and crying non stop… so our mother sung her a lullaby. She hugged her, and stayed with her until she fell asleep. Then she hugged me too, and she said we’d be okay. I thought… seeing her daughter sick made her remember how precious her children were to her.”

 

“..what happened?” Reim prompted after a minute of silence, though he had a sick guess.

 

Break’s expression turned to a snarl. “She fed bleach to Emily. She mixed it in her food, I think. I caught her.”

 

Reim wanted to say something, anything, but nothing came out.

 

“I told you, didn’t I? We all had life insurance. She did simple math.  Her husband could work if he recovered, her daughter only cost money, and she alone couldn’t support the four of us. So Emily had to die. She’d use the life insurance money to pay for my father’s operation, and we’d go back to how we were before. As if Emily was just a bad dream.”

 

They shook their head.

 

“When I caught her, she panicked, and flung the bottle at me. It got into my eyes. It burned. She should’ve had it washed off, she should’ve called the hospital, but she was terrified that I’d tell the authorities about what she’d been doing, so she locked me up in my room instead.”

 

“...I only managed to escape a couple days later. I wanted to leave with Emily, but I couldn’t see right, and she was in a lot of pain, so I figured I’d just find the police and come back for her. I had a bit of a hard time convincing them, though… Imagine a barefoot fourteen years old in pajamas, bursting in screaming with bloodshot eyes. They freaked out, and sent me to the hospital. By the time I managed to string a coherent enough sentence to convince them to check my home, it was too late.”

 

Break looked like they wanted to add something, but they refrained. Reim didn’t push it.

 

“Emily… Emily died a few weeks later. She was _two_. She had holes in her stomach, I think. The damage was irreparable. My father was unable to take care of me, since he was still bedridden, so I was sent into foster care.”

 

Reim expected the story to end there, but Break had more things to say.

 

“I was eventually taken in by a woman named Shelly and her daughter, Sharon, I believe I mentioned her before? I was a difficult kid. I’d sworn I couldn’t trust anyone ever again, but she helped me… a lot. They both did.”

 

Break snorted, they actually snorted, and the amused sound was more sincere than Reim ever heard from his friend before.

 

“And here I am. It was tough. I have regrets,” Break let a shadow pass over their eye, “but I’m… I have my precious little sister, Sharon. I have Shelly. I try to uphold Emily’s memory, even after I failed her. I’ll never forget her, that’s the least I can do.”

 

Break smiled. “Things were hard but I’m… better. So you can wipe that worried look off, you wannabe mother hen.”

 

Reim’s cheeks flushed. “What?!”

 

Break snickered. “Please. It’s splattered all over your face. You’ve heard my sob story and now you want to wrap me in a blanket.”

 

“I…!” That was an accusation that shook Reim to the core, because it wasn’t anywhere near wrong. “I’ve been worried about you since our eyes first met, you idiot. You’re a walking disaster of a living being.”

 

He said that without really thinking, but he found it was true.

 

“Oh no, you’re so sweet. Well, in any case, we’re here~” Break pointed out. “Look.”

 

They were, indeed, back in front their building. Reim was about to say something else, but Break shoved their rainbow of a bag into Reim’s arms.

 

“Go in, honey,” Break mocked, “I need a smoke.”

 

Reim grumbled, but decided he at least owed them that.

 

Break lit up their cigarette. The smell poked at Reim’s nostrils, but he didn’t turn around. Clearly Break needed a b… needed Reim out of their hair for a bit.

 

“Oh, by the way,” Break called out just when the door was closing behind Reim.

 

“You probably already guessed, but I like sweet things.”

 

The door smashed closed behind Reim.

 

Was his head ringing because of the noise, or because of the words?  

**Author's Note:**

> listen nb Break is Good ok???
> 
> i'm sad I didn't get to include Sheryl meeting Break and Reim but even longer this needed not be


End file.
